


Bestial - The Haunted AU

by NoxumBoots



Category: The Haunted - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blood and Gore, Character Study, Explicit Language, Feral Behavior, Feral!Drake, Gen, Malnutrition, Trust Issues, We Love and Respect Maiya in this Household, Write Once Revise Nonce, crack treated seriously?, implied/referenced eating disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28435542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxumBoots/pseuds/NoxumBoots
Summary: "I’d rather be you than me."He chuckled without humor again, making Grayson look up from the fire. “No you don’t.”Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Truly?”“No.” He couldn’t put it into words quite right. But he felt like he needed to say it. “You really, really don’t.”A canon-divergence AU where Drake has trust issues, Maiya is very curious, and Grayson is very clueless. Also, Drake has a tail.
Relationships: Drake & Grayson, Drake & Maiya, Maiya & Grayson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Bestial - The Haunted AU

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this to celebrate the coming of the year of our Lord and Savior the year 2021 whoop whoop
> 
> MAJOR Trigger warning: This fic will touch upon gore, cannibalism, and a good amount of behaviors that reference/are similar to ED tendencies. If you're uncertain about whether or not to read this, don't. I will put warnings for specific things at the beginning of each chapter to be safe.
> 
> In this chapter: ED tendencies, Drake and Grayson are still getting used to each other, and Maiya, unknowingly, flips the switch for the biggest problem they'll have.

_ One, two, three four, five six. No, wait. _ Drake reshuffled his bag, pointing out each package inside with his finger to confirm what he was seeing.  _ One, two, three, four, five, six. Okay. _ Six packages. He’d counted right the first time after all.

Not quite satisfied, but without much he could do about it, he closed his bag and sat up, yawning. The moon was new, the old house dark, but Drake could see just fine. He was more of a nocturnal creature. Grayson, however, was dead asleep. That gave Drake time before morning to double check his supplies. Not that it was doing him much good. He’d already repacked twice, checked his clothing for tears, resheathed, unsheathed, and double resheathed his sword. It was only making him more and more nervous.

He was done with this, he told himself, snapping the buckles shut and putting his stuff aside. See, this is what happens when you spend months and months alone. Even the thought of another person in the same house as you makes your tail twist itself up into knots. You don’t know what to do with yourself. If he were alone, he’d already be dozing peacefully.  _ Come on, man.  _ He smacked himself in the head. Gently. “The house is probably just making me paranoid. I mean, come on. First years of your life you can remember were spent here. And those were… not fun. Can’t believe Grayson thought this was a good idea.” Aaaaand talking to himself again.

He sighed. His leg hurt. More than it probably should for an arrow wound. His claw came down, picking at the bandages. Grayson had already helped him drain and dress the wound, but it still felt kinda bad. Smelled funny, too. Hopefully, it wouldn’t fester.

Sleep was a lost endeavor at this point. He tested his leg’s weight and immediately resigned himself to limping along, using the wall for support. His tail helped, but it couldn’t hold his weight the same way his own two legs could. It mostly just kept his balance. He stumbled out into the kitchenette, where the last embers of the fire were still going. The cold wind whistled through the broken windows and holes in the woodwork.

Honestly, it was a miracle this place was still standing. Even half-destroyed by the shifting landscape and erosion, it was still recognizable as Armen and his old house. The creepy basement door was on one hinge, the tiles from the kitchen were still the same shades of black and white ceramic. Heck, even the bedding in their rooms hadn’t broken down into rot and dust yet. It was unnervingly similar. It wasn’t at all comforting, though.

“Stupid assassin. Stupid river and stupid... HIM with his stupidness,” Drake mumbled. “Damn it.” Talking like that made him feel a  _ little _ better. He sat down by the dying fire and poked at it with a stick, tail tapping rhythmically on the floor. It calmed him down, enough so that his head cleared. His heart and brain were still racing from the Red Keep. The attack from Arm-  _ HIM _ , and the underground railway, and then the assassin and the house… It was a lot. He took some time to breathe, pawing at the skin beneath his left eye; a startling blue. It itched sometimes. Probably remnants of his failed spell.

_ No. Don’t think about that now. Not in this place. _

Just as quickly as the thought came, it passed. He yawned. His head felt foggy, stuffed with something almost...cottony? No. Cotton really didn’t compare to this post-adrenaline comedown. More like someone was trying to smother him with a large quilt, and he was aware of the whole thing. He just wanted to sleep at this point. Forget about everything that had happened in the last three days.

“I thought I already put you to bed.”

Drake shrieked and turned around.  _ “Grayson!  _ Don’t  _ do _ that!”

Grayson gave a dry laugh from the bedroom door, standing upright and walking over to the firepit. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Yeah, well, you did.” A few sparks flew as Grayson added another branch to the embers. “Geez…”

Grayson was a rougher human than most. His hair was scruffy, his arms were tense and strong, and his eyes had this way that they watched everything too closely, like it would vanish is he blinked. The man was just… intense, and always ready for the worst, even if it never came. _A survivor,_ he thought. Drake found himself admiring Grayson’s strength as the human sat down across from him. It looked much like the scene earlier, when they’d first made camp that night.

“So, is something on your mind?” Grayson asked, going straight to the point.

Drake sighed. “Eh. It’s just the house. Got a lot of bad memories about this place.”

“I’d imagine.”

“Mm.” Drake thought for a moment, then looked up. “Hey Grayson.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about the Empire.”

Grayson looked at him like he’d grown a second tail. “What?”

“Well, you mentioned it earlier with the dragon egg, and seeing how I’ve been in the Badlands for four years, I kinda thought that it would be…” He fumbled in the air for the right words. “Nice, useful? To know something about it.” Also he wanted to distract himself.

Grayson was quiet for a moment, then rubbed his mouth. “Alright. Well, what do you want to know: East or West?”

“...there are two?”

_ “Were _ two. There’s only one now, conquered by the East. I helped defend it.”

Drake’s ear twitched in surprise. “Oh, so it was fairly recent.”

“Yeah. The war only lasted six years, and I joined near the tail end of it. I got promoted to Right Hand Commander I think… fourteen months in?”

This was all new information.  _ All  _ of this was new information. Only a few days ago, Drake had been content with only knowing Grayson had been a part of the Empire. Now, he’d learned that Grayson had been a commander, with a wife and son, in what seemed like a luxurious capital. His head was spinning. “Wait, wait, I- so, in the span of four, no  _ two _ years, you just… created this life for yourself? Out of nothing?”

Grayson nodded.

“Damn.” A thought occurred to him, and he chuckled morosely. “I haven’t done anything since coming here. Besides, y’know, a bit of magic here and there.” Not like he could’ve done what Grayson did, waltzing back into civilization. His claws dug into his jeans from where he rested his hands. It barely hurt. He’d cut himself with his own fingers more times than he could count, so he was used to it. His claws, tail, eyes, skin… it was just a part of him. All the freakish parts of him that kept him away from towns and ‘civilized’ comforts were who he was. 

As if reading his train of thought, Grayson’s eyes flitted to Drake’s hands and back up, almost too fast to catch. “Yeah, well… you and I are different Drake. And to be honest, your choice might’ve been the wiser one.”

He looked up in surprise. “Choice? Wait, why?”

“I…” The human looked uncomfortable. “Drake, I’ve… I’ve caused a lot of pain. To a lot of people. The four years I’ve been here. Some of them have been people I’ve cared about, and it hurts. I think about it every…” Grayson waved his hand in the air, interrupting his own sentence. “I’m not sure if you could really understand it, but it eats at you. I’d rather be you than me.”

It was deeply self-pitying what Grayson was saying, but it set Drake’s teeth on edge.  _ I’d rather be you than me.  _ As if Grayson, with his limited time with Drake on this trip, already knew the ins and outs of his mind. His doubts. His fears. His patchy memory.

_ I’d rather be you than me. _

He chuckled without humor again, making Grayson look up from the fire. “No you don’t.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Truly?”

“No.” He couldn’t put it into words quite right. But he felt like he needed to say it. “You really, really don’t.”

There was awkward silence for a while. It was full of self-pity. It was only broken by Drake trying to shift from his position, only for his leg to spasm. He tipped over to the floor. “Ow.”

Grayson snorted, but hurried over with concern, forgetting their previous standoff- maybe trying to clear the air by rushing to the next thing. “Alright, okay bud. Time for bed. For real this time.”

Grayson grabbed under one of his arms and helped him up. For the most part, Drake did fine. However, his left leg refused to hold any weight. It hurt like hell, numb around the edges and ankle but throbbing hot in the center. He tried to step and buckled. “W-woah.”

“Ah shit,” Grayson swore. “Okay, down again, down, down.”

Drake was unceremoniously put back onto the floor. He mumbled  _ ‘ow’ _ again as his ankle took his weight for a split second, then was readjusted. Grayson’s touch was firm, not gentle but not harsh, hiking his pant hem up and going for the bandages. He didn’t even look twice at Drake’s odd feet, completely focused. He unraveled the hastily done bandages, then set his jaw.

“How bad is it?” Drake asked, not wanting to look himself. He just hoped it felt worse than it actually was.

“...It’s not that bad,” Grayson replied, a bit hurried, even as he put Drake’s pant leg back down and practically scrambled back to their rooms.

Drake called after him. “It  _ kinda _ sounds like it’s bad!”

“Don’t look at it.” There was some shuffling from the other room, a thump as something fell to the floor (sounded like a book), and footsteps coming back to the main room. “Alright. I’m going to clean out the wound again, and then you’re going to drink this entire thing of water and go to bed.”

“Fine,” he mumbled. There wasn’t much room for argument.

He didn’t look. If Grayson was that hesitant to tell him what it looked like, he didn’t wanna see it for himself. He hissed as Gratson poured something on the wound- god it smarted- but bit his lip as it was rewrapped. The whole process didn’t take long, but it felt much longer. They didn’t talk.

“Do you think I should splint it?” Grayson asked, sounding uncertain himself.

“Uh… no. The arrow didn’t pierce bone, and honestly, walking might be even more awkward if my feet were tied up.” He wiggled his toes to get feeling back into them. He was barefoot (shoes were the bane of his existence, along with water), clawed with long heels, almost dog-like ankles. The fact that he had to walk on the front of his toes to walk properly gave him extra height, along with his already lanky legs. It made him look like he was on stilts, but he didn’t know how else to do it. If he walked heels-to-ground he looked like a frog.

The human gave him a little chuckle, once again trying to ease the awkward air. “Alright. Come on, bed time. If we wanna keep moving you’ve gotta get your leg healed up.”

“Yeah.” Grayson helped him up. “No offence, but I’d rather get out of this house as soon as possible.”

“That and, well, cultists.”

“...uhuh.”

* * *

He was woken in the middle of the night by a cold hand on his forehead. He groaned, opening his eyes a slit then closing them again. Everything hurt…

“Sorry, dude,” a voice said. “Go back to sleep…”

He did, albeit fitfully. Time passed.

* * *

When he woke up next, it was sunny and cold. Light shone in from the window outside, stark. He shivered, drenched in sweat and having kicked off the blankets sometime during the night.  _ Ew. _

He hoisted himself out of bed- ow, ow, sore ankle, ow. It felt a lot better than before, but he still needed to be careful while walking on it. He hobbled over to the spare bedroom, peeking in. “Grayson? ...Hello?”

Nothing. A quick search of the first floor revealed no Grayson. There were dying embers of a fire, however, and a chunk of fresh bread on the counter, so he must’ve been there recently. He closed his eyes and listened, trying to focus past the idle creaking of the house and his own heartbeat…

Shuffling downstairs. Damn. He  _ really _ hoped that was Grasyon and not some demon monstrosity. Years later and he still had a fear of the basement. He supposed it would never go away.

The door was open a crack. He slipped inside, down the stairs and onto the packed dirt floor. Just as he suspected, Grayson was down there, gazing into a small tunnel on the far side of the basement wall. He seemed thoughtful, not even noticing Drake coming downstairs and walking up behind him. “Grayson!”

_ “AUGH!”  _ He flailed and smacked Drake upside the jaw. “Oh shit, sorry.”

_ “Why?” _ The man had a hell of a swinging arm. Drake rubbed his jaw, knowing that it would at the very least smart for hours to come. “Why would you do that?”

“You scared me, man!”

“...fine. I guess we’re even now.” He turned tail and motioned to the stairs. “Come on, stop staring at the creepy hole. It won’t get you anywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They went back upstairs, leaving the musty, haunted basement behind. Grayson added more kindling to the fire to bring it back to life and all but threw jerky and bread at Drake. Well, it was half a meal. Drake ate the jerky (chewy, tough) and ignored the bread. He’d find some way to sneak it back into Grayson’s bag later. Grayson finished his bread and informed Drake that he had been out for…

“Three days?” He couldn’t believe it. “I was out for three days?!”

“You were poisoned, man,” Grayson explained, swallowing. “Nasty stuff. Infected overnight. I’m just glad you survived. I was this close to heading to Aegon’s Wall to find a healer.”

“Please don’t,” he replied, grinning morosely at the idea of some doctor prodding around at him like a lab rat.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t. But I would’ve. Anyway-” He brushed the crumbs away and sat down next to Drake by the fire. Their poses mirrored last night- or, two nights ago, when they’d last spoke properly. Everytime they sat down, they always seemed to take the same position. “If you’re feeling better, I’d rather keep moving.”

“Did you find any leads?” Drake asked, stretching his legs and shoulders. They were sore from laying down for so long.

“No, not yet. I did go back to the Red Keep, tried to see if anything useful was there besides the underground rails, but um… cultists.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s not good. Slaves, bonfires… It looked like they were digging for something, excavating.”

“Do you know what they were looking for? The subway?”

“Eh… maybe? I didn’t stay long enough to find out,” Grayson admitted. He seemed uncomfortable talking about it. “I didn’t want to risk getting caught.”

“Good. I’d hate to wake up and not have you here. ‘M not sure what I would do.” That came out, once again, a little more honest than he’d first intended. Having company around must’ve been softening him up. The idea of being alone again made him… unhappy.

“Thanks, I think.” He stood up. “Mostly that’s why I want to keep moving. We’re too close to the Red Keep for comfort, and this house…”

“It sucks.”

Grayson chuckled. “Yeah, yeah it does. Couldn’t sleep myself. Felt like I was being watched the whole time... Uh, there’s an inn a few miles past the river, in the jungle, that’ll probably be our next stop. Are you sure you’re up for traveling? You were quite ill for a while there.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Drake reassured. “Just a little sore from the bedrest. I heal faster than most.”

“I see that. Alright, drink some water, and, uh…” 

Grayson trailed off, looking at Drake’s hands. He was still holding the bread, cradling it like it was a small creature encaged by his claws. “Oh. Sorry, didn’t have much of an appetite.”  _ That _ was a lie. He was still hungry after the meager amount of jerky he’d gotten, but if he ate the bread he might get sick from it, and he wasn’t about to risk that. Plant matter never sat well in his stomach.

“Ah. Give it here, save it for later.” And the bread slipped into Grayson’s bag without fanfare. Crisis averted. He didn’t have to explain a single thing.

* * *

It was cold. If Drake were more vulgar, he might say it was ‘cold as balls’. But that was crude, so he just settled for cold.

“Whyyyyy did we go  _ directly _ through the river?” He whined. The wind tugged at his still damp clothes, making him shiver.

“Hey, you’re the one who said it wasn’t worth it.” Grayson didn’t seem too interested in his complaints. He was too busy using his sword to clear away the jungle that had overgrown the path. 

“It  _ wasn’t! _ I don’t have a talisman to assist teleportation. Do you know how much raw mana it takes to undergo a teleport without assistance? Let alone with two?”

“Okay, okay. Theoretically, how would you get a teleportation talisman, in case something like that would happen again. How do you even make something like that?”

“Hm.” He ran through the process in his head. Much of what he knew he’d either learned through experimentation or old books found in his home. Something tickled at his brain, but he ignored it. “Well, it’s mostly based on when it was made and with what materials. It would probably be best to do it on a new moon, cus Ender spells are most powerful then… It would need a strong structure to support its core, so I’d probably go with metal. Almost like a bracelet. Actually, a bracelet would make a poor teleporta-”

“Bear trap,  _ BEAR TRAP-” _

Drake shrieked and barely stopped his foot from setting down. It sat there, hairpin-triggered, teeth gaping oh so innocently. He’d almost lost everything from the heel down. So  _ that’s _ what he had sensed. “Holy hell…”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he replied, still sweating cold bullets. “I jus-  _ hhhh. _ ”

“Eloquently put, Drake,” Grayson said, starting forward again. “ _ Please _ watch your step.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

The traveling went slow, and Grayson was the one with the map, so for the most part Drake was left alone with his thoughts and the sounds of the jungle. Rustling leaves and huge roots that choked out the path. He stumbled along beside Grayson, using his back for reference so he didn’t accidentally walk off the path. Usually he’d be more self aware, but today he still felt sluggish. He blamed the cold seeping into his bones and the remaining muddle from his fever. He’d been laying down for a long time, after all.

They walked, and walked, until Drake’s toes had gone numb and the sun had changed position to high in the west and he was a little bit grumpier than before. From there, Grayson took a left and up an even smaller trail, until they were on a stone path. Then it was a road, with barriers on each side to keep from falling down the steep sides.

“So,” Drake asked. “After we get to the inn, what’s our next plan?”

Grayson was quiet for a beat before replying, “I don’t know.”

“Wait wait, you don’t?”

“No.”

“I.” He looked around, suddenly feeling very aimless and a little scared. “Then what are we doing?!”

“We are going-” Grayson turned full circle, coming to a stop as he looked at Drake. “-to the inn. We are putting distance between us and the Red Keep, because our safety relies on us  _ moving.” _

“Your safety,” Drake mumbled sourly. He wished he could take it back less than a second after, because Grayson’s face did a flip-flop and settled on a snarl.

“Y’know what, Drake” Grayson came closer; Drake made a conscious effort not to step backwards. “I’m trying to keep us alive,  _ both of us _ , because goddamn it-  _ somebody _ has to, and you’re just dragging yourself along, every step of the way. You’ve been complaining for the last hour! Do you even  _ want  _ to be here?! Do you want to do this?”

_ Are you too pathetic to be traveling with me? _

“No! I mean, yes, I want to be here! I want to find a way to help! I want to, I’m just not used to this!” 

“What, traveling?”

“With another person. When I-” How much could he reveal to Grayson without weirding him out? “When I’m on my own, I just do things differently. I’m not used to being out and about this much.”

Slowly, Grayson looked him over and nodded. “...Okay, so you’re just, out of your element? Is that it?”

“Yeah, yeah, kinda,” he replied, because that did sound right. “I don’t leave my territory too often- my home base. Being out here makes me nervous.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

“I get it, dude,” Grayson said, turning back around and pulling out his compass, rechecking their direction. “Seriously. I got the same way with you and Armen, when you dragged me along on this in the beginning. But you gotta get over it, man. I can’t-” he dragged a hand over his face, pocketing the compass again. “I can’t carry your ass 24/7, yeah? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Drake’s mind went back to last night, and the people Grayson had already lost. He didn’t want to become one of them. “Yeah, sorry,” he said guiltily. “Guess I’m just used to traveling alone…” He’d been so out of it that he hadn’t been paying attention to the dangers around them. First the Nightmares, then the assassin, and even now… He knocked himself on the head as it swam.  _ Idiot. Come on, get some self-awareness. You’re no use to Grayson dead. _

“I’m having trouble believing that you’re able to survive on your own, is all,” Grayson teased. “How do you ‘do things’ as you say?”

“Um…” Once again, he thought about how much he could give away. Perhaps little things would be fine? Y’know, build trust with the humanoid stuff he could do. Other quirks could come later. “Well, I mostly travel in the nighttime, if at all. It gives me an advantage because I rely more on my sense of hearing than my normal vision. Plus there’s less chance of encountering other travelers that way.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so.”

“He-hey, you knew that already,” Drake said, scratching his jaw and feeling a bit self-conscious. “And you don’t have any traveling companions besides me and maybe your dogs.”

“Yeah, well, dogs are nice, but they’re more strays than anything.”

“Mm. Besides, most people south in the Badlands are bandits, so it’s in pretty much everyone’s best interest to avoid others.”

Grayson looked like he was about to say more, but he made the strangest squinty face. At the same time, Drake could hear the human’s pulse quicken, and some… strange, foreboding feeling over him. “Grayson? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I’m fine, just… headache.” Drake started to worry more when the scent of copper hit his nose. “I don’t know why here or now.”

“Then why?”

The universe answered his question, because alongside the scent of blood from Grayson, he caught the scent of something...sweet. Sweet? What in the world around here would smell sweet? Confused, he turned to where it was coming from. Ahead a bit and to the right, off the path.

Kinda made him hungry. Breakfast had been a while ago.

Without thinking, he started towards it. Grayson called after him, but he didn’t hear it; he was focused on that  _ smell. _ It wasn’t quite like any pastry he’d ever known in his life, and it wasn’t fruity either. It had a uniqueness, an underlying musk to it, like it was on someone’s breath. Whatever it was, it was very much alive. What kind of being would secrete something like that? Perhaps it was to attract insects? Fruit-eating prey?

“Drake! Drake hey! What did we just talk about?” Grayson came crashing after him, but Drake was much faster in the thick brush, in his own element now. His head was thick with the smell; it was, dare he say,  _ enticing _ . He didn’t know why he was going so quickly, nor why he was so focused on his search; he just knew he  _ needed _ to get to it.

Finally, he slowed as the smell thickened, and he could hear the creature’s heartbeat ahead of him. Grayson bumped into his back, but he paid it no mind as he went slowly forward. His own head was starting to pound. He ignored it as he peered forward and promptly had a heart attack at the sight.

There were two creatures in front of him. One of them looked like a girl with blond hair and a soft pink jacket, except she had pointed ears. Which was impossible, because elves were a fictional race that did not exist outside of stories. But she was very much there. She didn’t seem to notice him or Grayson, but then again, she seemed very focused on the other creature in front of her, reaching out to touch it with slender fingers.

The other creature was a Nightmare.

He was scrambling backwards before he could think about it. His legs were often faster than his wits, and his legs said to  _ fucking RUN. _ That, sadly, caused him to run into Grayson and send them both into the ground. Twigs snapped.

Drake had a millisecond to regret everything he had done in his short life before he heard the elf say,  _ “Hey!” _ and he could s _ ense _ the Nightmare’s newfound attention on them.

And then his legs were carrying him again, as fast as he could go. He didn’t spare a thought about Grayson until the trees had once again swallowed him again. He stumbled to a halt. What was he doing? “Shit!”

He had to wrestle with his common sense in order to go back. Everything said that he should just keep running, but he’d left Grayson! Right after they’d talked about protecting each other! Part of being a team- or maybe even just a decent human being- was  _ not _ leaving friends behind. So he drew his sword and ran back, cursing to himself.  _ This is a horrible idea! _ he thought over and over again, but he didn’t stop.

Grayson was alive, the elf was alive but yelling, the Nightmare was blasting hellfire in Grayson’s direction. He cast a simple shield over the two to stop them from getting seared. Grayson met his eyes, recognition yet confusion on his face. He probably hadn’t expected him to come back. That was fair, but ti still stung.

Okay; he could teleport the other two away, but it would be mana costly and he wouldn’t be able to get back to the main bridge. He could only teleport where he could see. They couldn’t fight the Nightmare; it was far too powerful. They’d have to run. Drake, having the advantage of precognition and teleportation, could maybe distract it long enough for them to get away. It would be risky, but it was their best shot.

Even knowing that it would go straight through, he swung his sword at the Nightmare. It went too low, cutting only through the bottom of its rags. It didn’t react, still focused on trying to corner Grayson. He readjusted his grip and charged at it, readjusting his grip to a dagger-like hold and skewering it though its center.

It caught on something- not flesh, but pressure, like he’d stuck a knife into soft butter. Must be enough power within the spirit that it had  _ some _ physical form there. It didn't hurt it, but it definitely got the Nightmare’s attention. It spun towards him, and he ducked under its talons.  _ Holy crap, it’s fast!  _

Grayson, ever level-headed, took the opening. But he didn’t turn tail and run; instead, he drew back his sword and cleaved through the Nightmare, across the middle. Drake didn’t expect anything to happen, but to his surprise, the Nightmare wailed, a horrible sound that was a mix between a child’s scream and a creature retching. There was a clean cut across the spirit where Grayson had struck it, tinged with white, and it almost appeared to be eating away at the matter that made up the Nightmare’s body.  _ What the hell? Is his sword enchanted? _

No time to figure that out. They had to run. Grayson grabbed the stunned elf by her wrist- another  _ “hey!”-  _ and barreled into the thicket the way they came. Drake sheathed his sword and followed. He ran as fast as he could without passing them, and slowly, the pounding behind his eyes faded, along with the Nightmare’s dread-inducing aura. By the time they had reached the highway, the feeling was gone.

Grayson finally let go of the poor girl’s arm, only to get kneed between the legs. He stumbled back, still holding his sword as he went down. Drake cringed.

“What is wrong with you people!” The elf exploded. “You scared it off!”

_ “What… the hell are you talking about?”  _ Grayson choked out, trying to get to his feet but sincerely having trouble.

Drake might’ve spoken up, either against the elf or against Grayson, but he was… preoccupied. The elf sounded like she was very angry; her scent, however, betrayed her as being afraid, most likely of the man who had grabbed her and of the danger she was in just a few minutes ago. Drake could smell that; fear had a very specific taint, but it was hard to detect under the rest of her scent. 

It was sweet, but bitter too. Thick. Cloying. A very near match to the smell from earlier that had gotten him into this mess, driving him to seek it out. Nothing in his life had ever had that specific, curious scent. It was…

Enticing. That was the word he had used.

_ Oh. _


End file.
